


Dreaming of other worlds

by roryteller



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Cross-Posted on Tumblr, F/F, Grief/Mourning, Melancholy, Post-Canon, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-12
Updated: 2016-07-12
Packaged: 2018-07-23 12:58:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7464162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roryteller/pseuds/roryteller
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cat loves these evenings on the balcony with Supergirl, especially when Supergirl tells her stories.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dreaming of other worlds

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Summer of Supergirl: There are Places I Remember - Kara and Krypton
> 
> Thanks to [Rae/JosieCat](http://archiveofourown.org/users/JosieCat/pseuds/JosieCat) for looking this over.

Cat had never mentioned it to anyone, not even to Supergirl (and especially not to Kara, because yes, she knew), but she really enjoyed her little chats with Supergirl, most of the time.

Not just because it was an opportunity to dispense little bits of advice, to shape the young hero she had branded. Not just because it was one of the few social interactions she had in any given week that was on an equal footing, with someone who neither despised her (like her mother), wanted to manipulate her (like Maxwell Lord), nor feared her (like most of her employees, often including Kara, as paradoxical as that might seem).

Not just because she got to see a side of Supergirl she suspected that few got to see, though that was certainly a perk ( _an honor,_ whispered a more poetic part of her mind). Not just because Supergirl looked at her with an admiration, a trust that, despite her pride in her many and varied accomplishments, she wasn't quite sure she deserved, though _that_ did things to her heart that it was safer not to think about.

But also because sometimes, for reasons that Cat didn't always understand, Supergirl would get a distant look on her face and talk about Krypton, or one of the other worlds she'd visited, and Cat had once been a little girl who looked to the stars and dreamed of other worlds, especially when things were hard at home in ways that she didn't yet have the words for.

And even though she'd found that her true talents lay with words, not with science, some part of her still couldn't help but dream.

Supergirl was a good storyteller, because she let herself talk, let herself _be_ in ways that Kara couldn't or wouldn't, even though she was just as cagey when Cat asked about her life on Earth. Sometimes Cat wanted to tell Supergirl that she knew, that it was safe to be herself, her whole self, around her, but she worried that she'd lose these moments, even though, since Kara's promotion, Kara was a little freer around her, a little more open, a little less tense.

Sometimes Cat wondered if her image of Supergirl was an illusion, if the fairy-tale hero, the wounded, sad young woman with stars in her eyes, would collapse beneath Kara's fidgety insecurity and nervous laugh if she forced the two together.

Or would she be all the more beautiful for it, seen in her entirety?

Cat shook herself free of her thoughts as Supergirl fluttered to a landing next to her, just enough of an impact to jostle the ice in the whiskey Cat was not quite drinking. She didn't like to be fully drunk around Supergirl anymore, nor around Kara, for fear of the treacherous words that might slip out, but she still had her glass, just a little to take the edge off after a long day, as much for the ritual of it as anything.

Supergirl didn't talk at first, but Cat could tell, something about the light in her eyes or the set of her jaw, that she would. That she had a story in her, aching to get out, and for whatever reason, this was where she'd decided to share it, here, on this balcony, with Cat as her audience, even though she had others to turn to—her foster family, who Cat had met during Myriad, her friends, Winn and James, the latter of which she might, quite possibly, be dating (Cat had pushed her towards it, but hadn't inquired after the results), and whoever else might be in her life. Little Lane, perhaps, if she was still around.

“My hometown was a big city. It seemed bigger than this one, but I don't really know. I'm probably the only one who still remembers what it looked like. The only one on Earth, at least.” She cleared her throat, and Cat was tempted to offer her something—water, wine, whiskey—but didn't want to interrupt her flow. “It was a port city—spaceport as well as sea. I used to go down to the port district—sometimes my aunt would take me, when she was in town.”

Supergirl's voice broke as she mentioned her aunt, as though that grief were fresher than the others.

Maybe it was.

After a moment she collected herself and kept talking. “In that part of town, there were people from every continent on Krypton—well, every inhabited continent—and dozens of other worlds. Eventually, I visited some of those worlds. But when I was little, going to the port was the next best thing. People and cultures from all across the galaxy!” She smiled to herself, a little sadly. “Well, not really, but that's what I thought. Sometimes, when I fly over National City and listen just right, it sounds a little bit like that—all those different voices, different languages. Sometimes I like that. Sometimes it's just sad.”

She sat down on one of the balcony chairs, the way she sometimes did when she was feeling down, when she just wanted to settle in and look at the city.

Cat thought Supergirl had finished, so she opened her mouth to say something, something comforting. Something wise. But she'd never lost a city, never mind a world, and the words didn't come.

“I don't even know... I don't know when my real birthday is, or on what day, on your calendar, Krypton was destroyed. I don't know exactly how long it took me to get here. Maybe my pod's computer recorded it. All I know is, it was more than twenty years. And that...” she took a shaky breath, “thirteen years ago today, I landed on this planet.”

“I'm sorry,” said Cat, and it wasn't enough, nothing would ever be enough to compensate for that loss, and she wondered why Kara wasn't with her family, or with Winn, or James, or whatever other friends she might have that knew who she was and would understand what today meant to her.

Maybe she wasn't ready to face them.

Cat sat down in the chair next to Kara's—next to Supergirl's, she corrected herself. It was hard to remember to think of her as Supergirl when she seemed this vulnerable. But she was still so very unlike the Kara that Cat saw every day at the office—so friendly, so cheerful, so easily cowed.

When Supergirl didn't move, Cat set down her drink on the little table and moved her chair closer, her way of offering a physical comfort she wasn't sure Supergirl would accept.

She'd thought that Supergirl might hug her, or lean her head on Cat's shoulder. Instead, Supergirl bowed her head, her face hidden behind a curtain of golden hair, and inched her hand closer to Cat's.

Without taking the time to think about it, Cat flipped her hand over and held it out in wordless acceptance.

Supergirl took it, her touch soft, her skin smooth and warm against Cat's, with a whispered, “Thank you,” and Cat couldn't refrain any longer from putting a name to what she felt for Kara—love.


End file.
